


Scream

by Fyrestorm



Category: Original Work
Genre: Gen, Heroes, Mutants
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-04-14
Updated: 2014-04-13
Packaged: 2018-01-19 08:11:07
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,259
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1462093
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fyrestorm/pseuds/Fyrestorm
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Scream, a mutant on the road to defeat the people who are destroying her city. She is always alone until a human appears and offers his assistance to destroy her enemy, after all the enemy of my enemy is my friend, right?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Scream

Scream

Preface  
"So you're a good guy?" the commissioner asked, hope in his voice that was almost sickening.   
I watched with cool, detached eyes as they lead away the group of men that I could still smell the blood on their hands and clothes. The police would have never caught them, these men looked so harmless, and the lumbering fools that were carting them to their cars looked as dim as a bulb in one of the cheap hotel rooms downtown. The commissioner cleared his throat again, drawing my attention back to him again, this was getting troublesome.   
"Are you on our side?" he asked again, "Are you a good guy? Are you a hero?"   
I chuckled again, giving the man a sinful half smile from under my mask, "I prefer to think of myself as an antihero," I answered him smoothly. He stared at me, his mouth gaping like a fish, making my smile widen. "I would also prefer if you wouldn't mention this to anyone, I would be much obliged to you."   
"Ye..yes ma'am," the man nodded swiftly, his brain forcing working double time, heart hammering as my voice wrapped around his feeble mind. "There will be nothing mentioned to the captain...or the reporters...I'll make sure my men..."   
"I trust you commissioner," I winked, "don't make me regret it."   
"Never...we would...never..."   
"I understand," I purred at him, smiling as I turned, "then this is good bye for now, commissioner."   
"Wait! What is your name?"   
"Name?"   
"Yes, your name...what is it?"   
"Just call me...Scream," I winked as I turned away again.   
"Goodbye," he called out weakly, as I waltzed to the fire escape jumping down without hesitating and rushing down the steps to my bike that sat innocently on the curve.   
I ripped away my mask, shoving it into my back pocket, and shaking my hair back before pulling on the helmet and kicking the bike into start. I sped through the streets, passing cars in a blur of lights, not fearing the police that were disappearing into the night for the very people I had just helped them catch. A smile made it's way to my lips, unconscious and broad, I had never helped someone before with my gifts. A laugh escaped me suddenly, "This could be fun." 

 

Chapter One  
My past was a blur and I enjoyed it that way, I knew that some things were best forgotten and the mind knew what they were. Memory told me that I was born in Ohio, on a small farm in the middle of summer, I also remembered the brief four years I spent there were an unpleasant haze of a man reeking of violence and alcohol and a woman that was too afraid to leave. I left though, I remember the woman in the crisp suit with the sharp cold eyes that took my shoulder in her tight hand and pulled me a way from the screams of the two people in the home.   
The next year was a scar on my memory, a rip that I couldn't stich back together. That home St. Mary's Orphanage for lost children, I was supposed to only be here for a few weeks, I was supposed to go into the foster care system but instead they drop me in a place with nuns and lost children with such violent streaks that nothing could ever hope to go right for them. They beat me daily, the children ripped into me because they sensed that I was different from them, that something was odd about me that they wouldn't be able to control. The nuns never helped, they would switch me when I told them that they children hated me, when I told them about them kicking the living shit out of me when their backs were turned.   
It was only nine months in when two of the nuns Mother Mary Elizabeth and Sister Judith Green decided that it was best for me to learn the lesson of what "someone like me" deserves. I remember that black room, the room without windows and only one door. I couldn't understand what was happening, I was only a child, I had known violence but never...never the shear beating that I got from those five children under those sharp, dead, fish eyes of those nuns.   
Never had I known that violence in those hours, but after that, in those minutes, I had never known my power. My voice acted before I knew what was happening, the order, the order for them all to stop being alive. They did. All seven of those people dropped dead in the moment I yelled at them...I felt like part of myself died with them.   
I sat there, curled in on myself and sobbed for the three hours that it took someone to notice the Mother and Sister's absence. All they saw when they walked in was seven dead bodies and a sobbing child that everyone already thought was a freak and a lair. That clawed hand was on my shoulder, leading me to a room that was no bigger then a broom closet, she shoved me into it, I felt my knees scrap against the floor, and then there was darkness.   
The darkness took up so much of my memory that everything started to fade into it, even the times located after I finally escaped. Everything was colors of gray, black and white for years, everything passed in a haze that I couldn't seem to escape even when I was in the outside world with people that were not looking to hurt or even touch me. I guess in all technical terms I was depressed, clinically, probably suicidal for a while to now that I think about it.   
When I moved into the city that was the only time I remember seeing color, unfortunately the color was red. Murder ran rampant, I didn't know what I had expected when I came here, it was crime filled and in the past three years when more and more 'gifted' people came out into the world. The hate became clear, humans attacked mutants and the mutants began to attack everyone, taking what they thought was theirs.   
It was everything that I had never wanted to see when I moved into the city, but it was what I needed. I needed a high dose of the real world after being so focused on myself for so long, a dose of people and how they thought. The lives of others, or what I had imagined how people were in my childhood, was flowery, lovely and full of life that was unimaginable to me and others like me. However, the minds of humans, both mutant and normal were lacking in anything more then anger and violence, it was a smack in the face that I, as I said before, needed.   
In my hole of an apartment that was centered in the worst part of town, which was never broken into, unlike those of everyone around me, was were I learned about the world. My world and the world of all around me slowly became one of self-centeredness that I needed to survive. Stealing, hacking, wooing people that should have been off limits to all moral people for everything I needed became completely normal for me, it was how I lived.   
I slowly fell into the wrong crowd, at least one of the worst that I could have in this city and only now did I notice that they were as bad enough for them to be called that. My life was slowly turning into an immoral pit were human life mattered little and where emotions of myself and others mattered even less. I watched murder after murder, never counting their cries or remembering their names because in the scheme of my life and 'The Agency' it didn't matter.   
'The Agency', I'm sure you read that and even after the evil I explained your brain supplied some sort of order, some sort of professional grouping like the mafia that only killed what they needed to have out of their way. The thought of someone even assuming that there was an order almost makes me laugh. There is no order, no laws, no meaning to anything 'The Agency' does in their actions. 'The Agency' only consisted of the most violent of the freaks, of the mutants, with the strongest powers and with no conscious to be bothered after each evil deed. It was little wonder why I fell into the group so smoothly, after killing seven people as a child no one even bothered to question when I slipped into the group with a smirk and a sway of my hips.   
There was no problems with my life as I moved forward with the group of vagabonds and villains that spoke of revolution and genocide. I stayed with them for months and months turned to years, I watched mayors and police fall as they opposed us, I even helped deliver a few to the reaper myself. It wasn't until they began to gather in the children did the tickle of outrage slipped into my mind. When they started killing them, that's when I knew I was human.   
The children were weak, harmless, at least the adults that we had killed had a chance...didn't they? My brain refused to listen to those screams, not to know those names and let those small children disappear into the darkness that I had lived in for so long. The slaughter of the three mutants standing over those little ones was the most natural thing I had ever done in my life, but the look in those children's' eyes...that would haunt me. The fear and anger in them that I knew would never disappear because the same thing that happened to me.   
I walked away from 'The Agency' after that, I never looked back. I got my own job, unfortunately it was nothing but waitressing in a restaurant that I only got yelled out and skipped out on tips more times then I got them. It was two years, I had thought that 'The Agency' had died out, disappeared, because the violent deaths and disappearances in the city had stopped...until they destroyed the restaurant I worked at killing everyone inside.   
It was a warning, I knew it, I had seen it clearly in the way they had killed the humans. They wanted me to run, because a mutant like me, one that wasn't with them, was against them and they wanted me out of the picture.   
Now that's were I stand, outside of the restaurant, dressed in the awful dandelion yellow dress that I knew was supposed to be bright but had been washed too many times to tell, smirking at the warning. They gave me meaning again, they gave me rage as I looked at the bodies of innocent people that didn't mean anything to them. They wanted to attack mutants now? So be it. Humans I knew they could deal with, mutants like me however, I would bring them down. 

"It's awful, can you believe that they would do this?" a woman's voice, all too high pitched sounded next to me making me jump, I thought that I was alone.   
"Who?" I tried to sound aloof, confused, but I knew it only sounded fake and angry as I faced the woman. Her gray hair was yanked into a messy bun, her face was plump...which would defiantly explain the lack of wrinkles in her face and almost invisible neck.   
"Haven't you noticed?" the woman asked, her hand going to her ample chest in shock, covering part of the awful blue stripped shirt she was wearing.   
"Noticed?" my voice was getting edgier, my hands were itching to just grab her arm and forcing her to tell me what she knew or to make her leave.   
"You haven't lived in Insulm long have you?" she giggled to herself, making me clinch my fists which were gratefully hidden in the pockets in my dress.   
"I have only been here for a few years," I denied, narrowing my eyes, once again resisting the urge to use my powers.   
"Then you have to know about the freaks!" she shouted way to loudly to just be talking to me, she had to be hoping the attention of the people across the street...or maybe in the next state.   
"Freaks?"   
"The mutants,'' she whispered the word like she was saying a curse word in church and her face scrunched in complete distaste, "they just go around doing what they want in our city. They have been killing people for years to gain their authority over the normal people and no one will do anything about it because they are afraid!"   
"No one? What about the good mutants?" I asked, knowing what a person like her would answer, but in the corner of my mind I realized I had never asked myself this question before.   
"Good mutants!" she laughed, her mouth going wide and throwing her head back, laughing so hard that her long blue jean skirt shook with her large stomach, "There are no such thing my dear! You should hear yourself, if you go around with this blind optimism in this city you'll be dead within a week!"   
"I have been here for two years as I already said," I ground out the words as I sharply turned towards the woman, grabbing her arms in an iron grip that made her flinch. I could see the sudden fear in her face, I wish she had a mirror so I could see myself the way she was seeing me right now, "It's closed minded people like you that make mutants bad, people like you that change people that would help you into people that do this."   
"Wha..."   
"You also should watch who you spill your nonsense anti-mutant shit to on the streets," I hiss, moving my face closer to her, allowing my power to wash over her mind, "Don't forget that some of my people, some of them can be good, if you let them."   
"How...how do you know?" the woman stuttered, I felt a trickle of shock that the woman could still talk past my suggestion.   
"Because there is good in almost everyone...it's people that kill it," I whispered, darkness flashing in my mind, bodies that I had made bloody, "Just give people a chance."   
I dropped my arms suddenly, the emotion that had been trapped in my voice shocked even me but froze the woman in place, turning away I ran. My voice had been pleading, even though what I had said was supposed to be an order, I hadn't understood my emotions. I hadn't understood the pain that I felt when the flash backs hit me or why I got so angry when the woman just pointed out the truth that all mutants put into the open for all to see. Shaky, quick breaths escaped my lips and I ran my hands threw my hair, hands that if I focused I could still smell that woman's overly flowery perfume on.   
"Just breathe," I whisper to myself, attempting to use my own powers on myself, though I knew that couldn't happen. I laughed bitterly, shaking my head, normal people would have been on the street crying by now, almost everyone they had talked to on a daily biases was dead and I was just walking home on shaking legs and that wasn't even from their deaths.   
"Yep, you are so very, very messed up," I whisper to myself with a choked giggle.   
"Aren't we all?" another voice, a male's, I refused to jump this time though I did spin around to glare in the direction.   
"Who are you?" I hissed the question, noticing that for one I was very close to my bike and two that man was hiding in the shadow of the building making him another hazey gray blur.   
"Who are you?" his voice was snippy as he quipped back at me, though he still hadn't moved.   
"You're the one who started talking to me, why should I answer you at all?" I snap back, but I refuse to step away from my back towards my bike, that would be weakness and I was too stubborn to run.   
"I saw what you did back there, Alexandria, your power is quite remarkable," his voice was condescending and he still wasn't moving, I felt my skin prickle with unease.   
"I don't know what you are talking about," I answer, blinking my eyes slowly at him.   
"Yes, yes you do Alexandria," I could hear him smiling, I could hear it! It set my very teeth on edge and made my fists clinch, my common sense screamed that it would be a good time to leave, because of course now it would kick in for the first time in my life. "Your voice, it calls to people, it commands people to do anything, everything you say."  
"Ha!" I laugh out loud, I don't understand if it is real or fake this time, "I think you see way to much into what I just..."   
"Alexandria Stone, killed seven people at the age of six, you have the gift of Charmspeaking," he answered her denial, I could feel my face harden, I refused to deny anything that would just tell him the real answer.   
"I have the gift of what?" I asked, my voice was more high pitched, confused, this time the confusion was honest.   
"Charmspeaking, it is also known as vocal suggestion," he moved smoothly, walking forward swiftly until the sun completely fell on his face.   
A more untrained woman would have lost the stone hard glare in the face of his shining hazel eyes and full lipped smirk. I couldn't stop my eyes from roaming up to his almost too thick brown eye brows and his close cut trimmed honey brown hair, that lead to the neat stubble on his chin. He noticed, his hands going to his jean clad hips, his warm brown leather jacket parted just enough to show a well worn red band tee, I cursed mentally several times.   
"I don't know what..."   
"Stop lying," he ordered quickly, cutting me off, making me bite my tongue to stop myself from giving him the very clear order to never interrupt me again, "I know who you are, what you do, where you live. I know everything about you. I also know that face you made at that crime scene, you want revenge...so do I."   
"What does that got to do with me?" I snapped, glaring, though not denying anything he told me any further.   
"I want to help you, you help me and we can take them down," he smiled, he had a dimple, I cursed again.   
"You don't know anything."   
"I know you want to take down 'The Agency' and so do I, don't lie to me."   
"I think you are a fool with too many assumptions," I turn away quickly and begin to walk away when he calls out again.   
"They will kill you!" His voice reached me just as I reached my bike, throwing my leg across my bike and snapping on my helmet, I caught his eyes steadily.   
"Maybe that's what I want," I answer, I started the bike and flew down the road, speed limits meant nothing when it slowed getting away from that man.


End file.
